


the feelings got lost in my lungs

by earnmysong



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earnmysong/pseuds/earnmysong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sarah says the words without thinking.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	the feelings got lost in my lungs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catteo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catteo/gifts).



> Disclaimer: As much as I wish it did, _Chuck_ does not belong to me.
> 
> This show has officially eaten my brain, I’m past the point of no return, what am I doing, etc. Set during the season one finale. Title courtesy of Demi Lovato. For two lovely ladies who are kind enough to listen to my incessant yammering about all things _Chuck_.

\----

_Save you later._

Sarah says the words without thinking. She tells herself it’s just an unwanted side effect of the fact that she’s had about thirty versions of ways to do exactly that rolling around in her brain since she slammed through the door of the Wienerlicious twenty minutes ago.

(It’s more than that. The idea of not seeing him every day, let alone ever again -- because that is a very real possibility -- makes her breath catch in her throat for so long that her heartbeat starts to pound in her ears.)

Chuck shoots her a tiny half smile and a nod before he turns away. These are both gestures he uses on a regular basis and she doesn’t quite know how to handle that. 

She’s about to fall apart completely when a gunshot pierces the air and the world shifts back into focus, emotions pushed aside to make room for actions she can perform from memory, ones that come much easier than what she’d just been trying to do.

\----

Chuck helps her out of the dumpster while Casey cuffs Lizzie, his fingers curled tightly around hers as he tries to heave her upward. The effort lands him sprawled on his back on the pavement, his momentum taking her with him. Before she even gets air back in her lungs, she looks down at him, wheezes that they should start looking for Ellie’s ring.

(Having a task means having less time to think about how the night could have ended, the crisis they (she) narrowly averted.) 

They get to their feet together, leaning on each other as they untangle limbs and straighten clothing. Sarah winces as Chuck lifts her foot to tug his tie out from under it.

“Ellie’s ring can wait ten minutes,” he says, walking a few steps in the opposite direction of the building and waiting for her to follow.

\----

“This looks ridiculous,” she laughs, rolling her pant leg over the ice pack Chuck has duct-taped around her ankle.

“How else are you going to pull your weight in this, the great ring search of ’08?” He shakes his head in mock disappointment at her lack of enthusiasm. 

“I would’ve figured something out.” She grabs her Snapple off the curb as he pulls her to her feet (second time’s the charm), plays with the cap while they wait to cross the street and head back the way they’d come.

(She’s smiling the entire time.)

\----

The search lasts a grand total of ten minutes before Chuck breaks the comfortable silence between them. “So. Earlier, when you said ‘save you later’? You weren’t actually going to save me later, were you?”

She stops in her tracks, halfway through throwing the lid of a pizza box to the other side of the dumpster. It flops down in front of her in a lazy wave as she turns to face him.

“Of course not, Chuck.” She keeps her voice steady as she talks, ignores the tightness in her chest. “I was only trying to make you feel better, say something that’d stick with you.”

“Like a verbal yearbook signing kind of thing?” he asks with a chuckle, peering warily into a container of half-eaten Chinese food. "It was nice to meet you, have a nice life?"

“Yep.” She nods vigorously, taking the out. “Exactly.”

When he meets her eyes a second later, she can see doubt in them, but he lets the moment go, distracted by a bug crawling across the toe of his Converse. “It’s official. I’m never eating again.”

They’re back in familiar territory after that, so much so that she can almost pretend the last few hours didn’t happen. 

(But she can't change the fact that they did.)


End file.
